


suffer little children (and forbid them not)

by amosanguis



Series: Episode & Movie Tags/AUs [52]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Character Study, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e13 Revelation 6:8, Gen, Methos Character Study, Original Language, Primordial Methos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Methos loves his children – he loves them all.





	suffer little children (and forbid them not)

**Author's Note:**

> Matthew 19:14 - But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.
> 
> Translations are [here](https://amosanguis.tumblr.com/post/187199560970/vocab-for-suffer-little-children-and-forbid-them).
> 
> I inspired myself with the thought that Methos was the one who created the Immortals in my previous fic, so I just kinda expanded on that idea a little tiny bit, and flavored it with an original language.

-z-

Methos loves his children – he loves them all.

He loves watching them live and grow and die.

He closes his eyes and spreads his ashen wings and flies around the world to count them – _fog, sfǔgǔf, fi, bigik, fi bigik, sfufad – one, two, three, ten, thirty, a hundred_— And when they get to be too many, he spreads his fingers towards the sky, reaching for dearest Mother Moon.

_Too many and they’ll be noticed, Szooktuf_, he says to Moon, calling her by her name. _Too many and the humans will Hunt them._

_Then I shall_ _Gather the children to me_, _Vo,_ She says, shifting the weight of herself, edging closer to him – making the seas themselves shiver and shake.

_Vo_.

First.

Future.

Methos had forgotten the name.

Szooktuf never forgets anything.

Methos loves his children – he loves them all so dearly.

He wouldn’t have made them otherwise.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed in those that misbehave. He made the Rules so the children wouldn’t stray, but, he chuckles, his voice echoing on a different plane, one that can’t be heard by _our_ ears—

(Methos leans down, presses a gentle kiss to Kronos’s forehead.)

—children will be children, as they say—

(Methos presses a sword against Kronos’s neck.)

—it’s best not to get angry with them; sometimes, they need a gentle guiding hand, and sometimes, Methos knows, they need a firm one. And, sometimes, the punishment needs to be swift and no more chances offered.

Spare the rod and all that.

(Methos swings.)

When the demon comes for MacLeod, Methos laughs in its face. He stands in front of Duncan, and he laughs and he swings his sword and he yells, _Dǔ kinindoosi odoäj fog mbo kiduma szoopuo?_

And the demon struggles now to run – run from the thing who knows the most ancient of languages. A language born in a vast emptiness, born not long after their sun grabbed a passing rock and pulled it close and warmed its surface with her love.

Methos grabs the demon and, spreading his wings, drags the demon down to the centers of the earth – before he rips it to shreds before its brethren, rends the shreds then to dust, pulls even the atoms of the dust apart and casts all that remains to the ether.

Duncan knows nothing of what’s just happened – all he remembers is the demon rushing towards him and then the world going black.

“I exorcised it,” Methos says with a smirk.

“I didn’t think that was one of your talents,” Duncan says, quirking an eyebrow and feigning indifference.

Methos leans forward, his chin in his hand, and simply smiles. Then Richie Ryan is walking into the loft and Methos smiles at him, too.

He loves his children – he loves them all.

-z-

End.


End file.
